


If he wants to love you too

by obsidianfr3ak



Category: Renegades - Marissa Meyer
Genre: M/M, el consejo siendo tercermundista, i feel so happy for them:'), i may or may not wrote this while listening amor al arte on loop, my gay sons, obsidianfr3ak listens to girl in red, yeah i came out of the closet last week and i needed to write something homosexual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:26:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27983775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obsidianfr3ak/pseuds/obsidianfr3ak
Summary: Eight years hadn't been long enough for Simon to get out of that closet or for Hugh to find a way to fit inside it. They had learned not to fight over it. But that didn't mean that he sometimes wished things were different.Despite everything, Hugh refused to let go of his hand. At least until he had to do it to climb to the roof of the cathedral and finish Ace Anarchy once and for all.
Relationships: Hugh Everhart | Captain Chromium/Simon Westwood | The Dread Warden
Kudos: 10





	If he wants to love you too

Eight years ago, Hugh remembered being in the kitchen, boiling water on a huge metal pot. The boiler hadn't been functioning for two days, and none of the six had bathed. It was winter and the water coming out of the shower was so cold it could freeze them to death. However, the sweat and the grime were starting to get unbearable. Also, his hair felt greasy every time he touched it and it was gross.

Simon was in the master bedroom, searching through the boxes full of winter clothes for a sweater that was appropriate for Tamaya, who had gone out with Georgia on some random mission. Kasumi and Evander were acting like crazy goats, playing the _Blind Man_ game all over the house, even though everyone had warned them not to because someone was going to get hurt. However, like the teenagers they were, they had completely ignored them and continued their game as normal. It had probably been Evander's idea; Kasumi was much more aware of the consequences of her actions, but she could also be easily influenced by her best friend. (Hugh told him once that that's what the two of them had in common, that they were both very persuasive. Evander responded by telling him he didn't know what that meant, but it sounded like a good thing, so thanks.)

That is why he felt worse when the warning became real and the one who ended up getting injured was Kasumi, after Hugh, who was taking the huge pot to the bathroom, accidentally poured all the boiling water on a blindfolded Kasumi when he tried to avoid colliding with Evander. Neither had she had the opportunity to use her powers to defend herself, nor could he finish the sentence: “You're _truly_ behaving like an animal, Blacklight, for God’s sake!”

It wasn't the first time that he and Simon acted like babysitters for Kasumi and Evander, but it was the first time something bad had happened.

Fortunately, the water hadn't been that hot. He had gotten distracted by his comics after the water was ready and that managed to cool it down just enough not to cause Kasumi second-degree burns. Simon spent a good amount of time trying to comfort a poor Evander on the verge of hysteria, saying things that, from what he understood, expressed in a language not appropriate for a kid his age his desire to kill Hugh and then himself (he didn't use that word, but it sounded like that). Hugh covered Kasumi's back with almost the entire jar of ointment he found in the first aid kit, telling her every five seconds he was sorry. Because he was truly sorry. If anyone deserved what happened to her, was Evander. After all, he had been the one with the idea of the game. But he did not dare to mention it. It would have been rude of him.

Kasumi didn’t stop crying. First, Hugh thought it was because he was being too brute while applying the ointment, so he asked her if he was hurting her.

“No,” Kasumi muttered weakly.

“Then why are you crying?”

Simon gazed at him, like saying, “I don't know, maybe because you burned her back, Captain.”

But Kasumi only sobbed louder and said, “What is going to say the press about this?”

Hugh couldn't help but laugh. Perhaps because he was feeling embarrassed by this whole scenario. Perhaps because the possibility of the press finding out about the situation made him want to flee the country. Or maybe because Kasumi didn't have to worry about what the press had to say, since there was no way they could know about it, and her thinking about it was funny to him.

Or maybe because he _did_ have to worry about what a couple of people had to say… 

And just at that moment, he heard Georgia and Tamaya enter through one of the windows. Five seconds later, they appeared in the living room, only to find the mess of water, panic, and crying that the four had made while they were gone. 

Georgia had a pizza box in her hand and she didn't let go of it even when she flew towards Kasumi, asking her in a thousand and one ways what had happened. Tamaya, meanwhile, tried to walk to where her friends were to better understand the situation (she did not fly inside the house; it was forbidden) (as forbidden as playing the _Blind Man_ game apparently), but she slipped in the puddle of water they hadn't bothered to clean up and that made her lost her shit.

He had not been scolded like that since a long time ago. Kasumi could have ended up seriously hurt. How were they going to get her to a hospital? How were they going to pay for the medicines? What if Evander got hurt too? What if Tamaya had broken her nose on the ground when she slipped on the spilled water? What was going to happen then? Hugh and Simon should start behaving like the adults they were, and Kasumi and Evander should stop acting like they were in first grade, and grow up.

And Tamaya and Georgia could have continued scolding them for years, if it weren't because Evander broke down again, begging them to please forgive him. Simon also burst into tears, overwhelmed by all the stress of the situation, while Kasumi began to ask for forgiveness, it had not been her intention to make them feel angry or sad. Hugh didn't cry; not because sometimes it was difficult for him to do it (could it have something to do with his powers?) but because he knew they did deserve that scolding.

Of course, they could have expressed themselves better. But it was their first time scolding them. They would get the hang of it.

In the end, the six managed to calm down. The pizza had gotten cold by the time they regained their appetite, but Georgia toasted each slice on the stove, with Evander watching her while eating a grape popsicle she had given him so he had something to focus on and could calm down. In the basement, Tamaya was teaching Kasumi how to make a homemade water heater with a cord and screws, assuring her with a sweet tone that now on they would never have an accident like that again. Hugh and Simon stayed in the living room, quietly staring at the wall as if they were in time out, even though they weren't.

When the pizzas were crispy enough and the homemade water heater was ready to be used, Georgia suggested they watch a musical movie they had on VHS (which happened to be her favorite, by the way). Hugh hated all types of musicals, so he decided to go help Simon sort out the mess he had left in the master bedroom when he got all the boxes of winter clothes out of the closet. He had not found a sweater that could fit Tamaya anyway.

They took their share of pizza (one entire slice and a third of other) and went to eat it in the other room.

Simon was the first to finish his meal. “I think we should start cleaning up,” he told him.

But that was thrown out of the window when they decided that making out was a much better idea.

No one could blame them. The room was empty and they had just been through a stressful situation. They had to draw the energy out somehow.

Unfortunately, Hugh couldn't focus on how Simon made him feel when he put his hand on his knee because of the lead actress's high-pitched voice, singing in his ear about wanting to move to the city to fulfill her dreams of becoming a model.

Did the TV really need to be that loud?

(“Of course it has to, Hugh. We're old, we can't hear shit.” “Tamaya, don't be that harsh. Now, Hugh, would you be a dear and bring me some more soda from the kitchen?” “I want more soda too, please.” “Come on guys, he’s not your servant” “Well, now he is, Simon. Bring me more soda, peasant.”)

When they stopped to catch a breath, Hugh whispered, “Did I tell you I hate musicals?”

Simon patted him on the cheek. “I don't think so,” he replied sarcastically.

“Well ... I hate musicals.” Simon pretended to be surprised. “I know, it's scandalous. What is going to say the press about this?”

They both laughed and continued where they left off. This time, Simon put his hand on his thigh, so it was easier for him to ignore the damned lead actress who was driving him crazy.

He thought everything was fine. But when Simon removed his hand from his thigh and discreetly broke the kiss, he realized that it was not. “You’re talking about the musical stuff, right?”

“What?”

“I mean when you made that joke,” he explained, “you were talking about what the press was going to say about… your dislike for musicals. You weren’t talking about… this.”

“This?”

Simon sighed. “Us.”

“Oh. Yes, I was talking about the musical stuff.” He was about to ask if they could please continue with the kissing, but Simon looked so worried... “Why are you asking?”

Simon began to play with his shoelace. “Well... haven’t you wondered what the press would say about us?”

“Simon, the press already says things about us,” he replied. “We are the Renegades, and the Renegades are kind of a bid deal.”

“Stop it,” he scolded him with a slightly shaky voice. "You know what I mean.”

Hugh sighed too. “I know.”

“So?”

The truth was, no. He hadn't stopped to think about it.

For him, the tricky part of being gay had been realizing it. No one had ever told him that being with a man was something another man could do. Hugh couldn't quite understand why that would be a bad thing, but the simple fact that no one around him talked about it made him think that it wasn't a good thing either. When he reached his teen years (when the Renegades started) and he plunged into the world beyond the four walls of his house, he began to notice certain... behaviors and thoughts that apparently no one who was heterosexual did or had.

He hadn't chosen to be like that. In the same way that he hadn't chosen to be a prodigy. Yet a part of him thought it might have been better if he was neither of those things.

Luckily, that crisis was over. Now he was almost completely sure that he was over it.

Almost. 

Also, his friends had shown nothing but unconditional support for him and Simon. So… that meant being gay was a good thing. Or at least that it was something normal.

“I've never thought about it,” he finally answered. “You?”

“A… a little. Sometimes.”

He knew he was lying. When Simon thought about something, he didn't do it sometimes. Simon thought a lot. On some occasions it was a good thing; Hugh was pretty impulsive (even when he was in a good mood) and Simon complemented him with his more precautious nature. But most of the time, the truth was Simon took overthinking to an unhealthy level that only made him get more stressed than what was truly necessary. 

“And what do you think?”

Simon tangled his finger in his shoelace and squeezed it lightly. “I don't know what to think,” he answered quietly. “I don't even know if I have an opinion on it. I just know... I know I'm frightened someone finds out. Really frightened.” 

“But you already told your dad,” Hugh commented. “He took it well.”

Simon scoffed. “He could have taken it better”

Hugh rolled his eyes as soon as he thought about the words Mr. Westwood had said when Simon confessed he was gay. He had been there when that happened. Simon wasn’t sure he would be able to talk to him if Hugh wasn’t there. Hugh would have gone even if Simon hadn't dared to ask explicitly. He wanted to think that he knew him well enough to understand the things his boyfriend told him without words.

Boyfriend. He liked that word. It felt… natural.

As if it had been created solely so that he could use it to call Simon like that.

“Look, son...” said Mr. Westwood, “and... Hugh.” Okay, but would it kill him to call him son too? It was just an expression. “I am glad you have trusted me to tell me about the situation. But I want you to know that this is not an issue to be taken lightly.”

Hugh felt his body tense. “What do you mean? Sir,” he added quickly.

“I mean, the society we live in is pretty cruel,” he explained, slightly less tense than he would be if Hugh hadn't called him sir at the last minute. “And some are not prepared to understand certain issues regarding… that. Do you remember how the city reacted when the Renegades arose?”

“People appreciate us a lot more now,” Hugh interrupted unintentionally.

Simon squeezed his hand. And then he let go of it.

“But there are still many people left who are getting used to the idea,” he debated without losing patience. “They have spent too much time hating prodigies. Also, certain people just have… an idea of how things should be. And that must be respected.”

“Do you know who also only had an idea of how things should be?” Hugh asked suddenly. “Those who killed prodigies on the street like they were worse than rats. Those who keep killing prodigies on the street as if _we_ were worse than rats.”

He wanted to reach for Simon's hand to take it again, but it was already hidden in the pockets of his jacket. There was no way.

“And why do you think that happened? It happened because they were careless. Or because they trusted someone they shouldn't trust and told them about their powers. You may think that just because you act a certain way, others are going to do it too. I regret to inform you that this is not the case. Even with the Renegades, the world is still pretty shitty with those who are different from the majority. And you are already quite different.”

He reached out his hand and squeezed Simon's shoulder lightly, causing him to lift his face and reveal his tear-filled eyes. “The time will come, son. This is not a battle you have to fight yet.”

But the straw that broke the camel's back was when he dared to blurt out, “Being gay is a lot like being a prodigy.”

Hugh had _so_ many questions for Mr. Westwood. For example, how dare he to say that being a prodigy and being gay were similar things, when he was not a prodigy and, as far as everyone involved knew, he was not gay either. Hugh did think that being a prodigy and being gay were alike, but he could do it because he was a gay prodigy. Also, what “regard” was he talking about? Was there a part of the conversation that Hugh had missed?

He also wanted to ask him why he thought he should respect someone who had ideas that did not respect him. Non-prodigies were furious when Ace Anarchy began to question their very right to exist and have a decent life. However, what many forgot, was that they had done the same with prodigies. Things weren't so good when you were on the other side of the coin, right?

(Yes, he also couldn't believe he was using his sworn enemy as an example to prove a point.)

Hugh wanted to say that and many other things to him, but he stopped as soon as he saw Mr. Westwood ask his son if he could hug him and Simon nodded, before throwing himself at this father's arms. Mr. Westwood even lightly squeezed Hugh's shoulder, as to assure him there was nothing weird between them. 

That little gesture and her boyfriend's reaction (what a beautiful word, how natural) was enough to swallow his pride and smile at him. 

Simon stood up and Hugh snapped back to reality. “But you know ... maybe he's right,” he muttered. “The world is cruel enough to us already. Why should we allow it to be even more so?”

He headed toward the closet, like a moth following the light.

Hugh stood up too.

“Anyway, isn't _that_ supposed to go against everything the Renegades stand for?" he kept saying. “Are we not the hope of the world?" He put his hand on the closet door “How can there be hope if people hate us, in a place where there’s already so much hate?”

He stepped on the ceramic plate by accident. It was instantly shattered. 

“I want to give hope to all people, Hugh. Even the ones who might hate me. Especially those who might hate me. I don't want to keep living with grudges. They don't make me a better person.” He turned his head slightly to look at him and smile. “This is the option that will allow me to love more. Because I want to love you, Hugh.”

Hugh smiled back at him. “I want to love you too.”

And with that, Simon stepped into the closet. Hugh felt a strange pressure in his chest when he saw his boyfriend (his boyfriend, only his) curl up inside the splintered, dark piece of furniture, his legs pressed against his chest and his head resting on his knees.

For several seconds, neither of them said anything, but suddenly, Simon snorted and did jazz hands like he was very proud of his little joke. Hugh imitated him. 

Simon was funny. But he wasn’t funny with everyone. 

“So let's fight one battle at a time,” Simon replied. “When this is done… when this is done, we'll figure out the rest.” He held out his hand. “Together... Because we're going to stay together, won't we?”

Hugh rushed to take it. “Of course, honey. Of course, we will.”

Simon moved slightly to the right so Hugh could sit next to him. However, when he tried to crawl inside the huge closet, he realized that as big as it was, it wasn't enough for him to fit.

There was a strange kind of ledge that was just the right height for Simon to sit below it, but Hugh's neck would twist if he did. It wasn't wide enough for him, not even if he pressed his legs against his chest. The wood it was made of was so thin and old that he was sure he could break it just by touching it. Plus, he'd seen fig-sized roaches come out of there. Just thinking about those critters crawling all over his body made him feel sick.

Thinking about all that made him feel sick.

He loved Simon with all his heart. Simon was his home, and now a part of his home was in darkness.

He was sorry, but he couldn't follow him there.

Perhaps it was because he was afraid of what was hiding in the dark. Or maybe it was that he loved himself too much to force himself to roll up, twist his neck, and put up with cockroaches.

Either way, he was sure Simon wasn't afraid of the dark. He stood up in the middle of the night to make sure everyone was still breathing, and the one who went to the kitchen to bring anyone who needed it a glass of water without even thinking about turning on the lights. And he also was the one who killed the roaches around the house because everyone there freaked the fuck out every time they saw one, even if it was small. (At first, he tried to hide it and even made fun of Evander when he cried when he saw one, but after a flying roach attacked him while he was cleaning the basement, he knew nothing would be the same anymore.) But for some reason beyond his understanding, Simon remained calm each and every time and killed the little shit as it was nothing, even though Hugh knew Simon also hated roaches with a burning passion. 

Simon was brave from his trench. Hugh could only be brave from his own.

So he sat on the floor of the room, facing Simon, without letting go of his hand and with a kiss on the knuckles, assured him that they would live long enough to fight the next battle together and the one after that.

Eight years ago. Many things could happen in eight years. Eight years was long enough for the burn on Kasumi's back to heal without scarring her and for Evander to stop freaking out whenever something went wrong. In eight years, Tamaya had learned more tricks to save them some trouble when necessary. Eight years hadn't been long enough for Georgia to convince Hugh to watch her favorite movie with her, because when Hugh finally watch it, Georgia was no longer be able to hear him tell her he cried like a baby the entire movie, not because it was a particularly sad musical, but because he seriously wanted to tell Georgia how much he was liking it, and now he couldn't.

Eight years hadn't been long enough for Simon to get out of that closet or for Hugh to find a way to fit inside it.

They had learned not to fight over it. But that didn't mean that he sometimes wished things were different.

The closet was getting too small for Simon. Each day it passed, he had to bend his head lower and lower so that the ledge wouldn't hurt him, and his legs were getting too long to keep bending like that. The insects had multiplied and Simon was so exhausted after killing them one by one that sometimes he didn't even bother to do so, letting them run through his body as if he were a corpse.

_Honey, look at you. Look how tired you are. Look at all the damage you're doing to yourself. You do not know how many opportunities you are missing. Maybe at some point, this was the only home that could keep you safe, but now it's different. You are different. I am here. I can be your home, just as you are mine._

_Simon, please come out soon._

_You’re too wonderful to be hidden._

Despite everything, Hugh refused to let go of his hand. At least until he had to do it to climb to the roof of the cathedral and finish Ace Anarchy once and for all. 

Because eight years had been enough for this battle to end.

Because it was over, wasn't it?

After dropping Max back with the nurse (a very disturbed and confused nurse) Hugh took his spear and walked his way onto the now abandoned battlefield. Everything was covered in a cloud of dust, created by the collapsed buildings around them. It was so thick that his eyes burned and it was difficult for him to breathe.

He could hear the crowd of people starting to gather around, but he couldn't see it. The only things that he was able to see were the corpses of the villains they had defeated and the blood staining the soles of his shoes.

It didn't feel as good as he thought it would. He only saw dead people, could only breathe in the corpse stench, and could only think about the overwhelming amount of lives that had to be lost for them to win, until four figures appeared on the horizon, trying to answer questions from a stunned crowd for which they had no answers.

The first that turn around to see him was Tamaya. The feathers of her wings bristled with excitement, and she screamed his name (his real name) before flying as fast as she could to hug him. Hugh released the spear so he could hug her back with the same intensity as her.

Tamaya was strong. But unlike him, she was strong in absolutely every way possible. That's why she was his hero.

He should start telling her that more often.

“Don't do that again,” she whispered in his ear. “If you do, don't doubt I will ignore whatever you have to say to me and I will follow you. Understood?”

Damn, of course she will. “Understood.”

Kasumi was the next to react. Tears were running down her cheeks, but when she wrapped her arms around him, she did not do so with weakness or shyness, but with such confidence and strength that made him feel strangely proud of her.

“I knew you'd be back,” she muttered. “I knew that everything would work out and that we would have a happy ending, I always knew.”

He patted her on the head. How he adored that Kasumi, despite all the destruction and blood she had witnessed, still believed in happy endings. Because it made him believe in happy endings too. “Never doubt that's the only thing you deserve, Kasumi.”

“I do not doubt it.”

Evander didn't wait for the girls to break away from the hug to join in too. They snorted as his weight collided with them, but for Hugh, it was like carrying the nine-year-old Evander again.

“You are alive!” he exclaimed with maniacal laughter. “You are alive! I am alive! We’re all—”

For a second, a shadow of doubt covered his face. His brow furrowed in concern and his lips trembled. But Hugh wasn't going to let that happen to him.

No more doubts. The Renegades weren't about that. He should know it better than anyone. After all, it was Evander who chose their name. In a way, he had started everything.

“We’re all alive,” he replied, ruffling his hair. “We won.”

Then, Evander turned to the crowd, raised his fist, and yelled, “We won!”

And the crowd exploded with shouts of joy.

But Hugh could only pay attention to the dark gaze watching him from a distance.

There was only one way for this to end. A way he wanted it to end. Yet he was afraid to look up and find him surrounded by the same hollow, dark, and lonely structure that Simon had locked himself in and refused to come out.

He wasn't quite sure how long he could go on being brave without him by his side.

When he finally looked back at him, the cloud of dust had dissipated and there was not a single shadow in sight.

Simon's hair was a mess, his cape had been torn, and he had bruises all over his face. There was dried blood right on the corner of his lips and staining his clothes.

Despite that, he had never seen him so alive. Not there. Not like this.

The times he saw him alive were when they were alone. Under the covers, in the basement at midnight, in the living room early in the morning. Those moments when they could afford to put the world as a background sound in a story where only they existed.

People didn't know the real Simon. And the sad thing was they didn't even realize it because they didn't know he was hiding something in the first place. If they heard him joke, cry, get angry, and laugh as Hugh did, they would realize how different he was from corpse Simon, with insects all over his aching body. 

Hugh just wanted the world to love Simon as much as he did. Even during times of war. Especially during times of war.

But there was nothing of those times left. Only them, and their hope, and their peace, and everything they stood up for.

However, it would be delusional to think that there would not be another war, with battles that would make his body hurt, his punches more violent, and his cries louder in order to be heard in the midst of the storm.

He knew how battles felt. And his love for Simon was nothing like that.

Love was like a hot shower on a freezing night, that made you feel like someone was hugging you. It was a truth yelled at your face, but that you didn’t get mad at it because it was one of those truths that did not hurt. Love blinded you and encouraged you to try to catch it if you could. Love was as hearing your favorite song during a lonely and desperate night.

Love was many things, but it was not a battle.

He separated from his friends without hardly realizing it.

Simon took a step toward him.

_Our love was never a battle we had to fight._

Hugh gave another. _I want to love you, you know._

Simon took two more steps.

_Do you want to love me too?_

He needed no answer. Seeing Simon run to him at the same time he ran to Simon was enough.

He did want to love him too.

The kiss… oh, that kiss tasted like so many things. It tasted like mint, blood, and home. It tasted like the strength that he had given him from the first day he entered his life, to close all the wounds that he did not know he had. Like the victory that meant being able to understand that part of yourself that had caused so many headaches, overcoming all the fears and sadness that lurked around every corner. To the happiness of finding an ending where he was waiting for him, ready to start a whole new chapter of human history together.

The world was cruel enough, but if there was a way the two of them could make it a kinder place, they would. And if part of that way was to let the whole world know that the man in his life was called Simon Westwood, he was never going to think twice before saying it again.


End file.
